That gentle frame, the lovely gaze:
every eye will play
the very same unfair
which leads to hideous frost
everywhere,
left a prisoner in walls
of beauty remembrance--
what it was.
Distilled, they meet,
their substance still lives.
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2 comments:
This is so beautiful and deep that I had to say it.
its a deconstruction of a shakespeare sonnet,
picking one or two words per line and making something altogether new
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